fandomtownies | Fight Club, Atlas Gym, Sunday Evening

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Fight Club, Atlas Gym, Sunday Evening

"Well, most of you are looking refreshingly back to your original shapes," Ghanima said crisply. "I hope many of you enjoyed your second or third childhoods, and many congratulations on not managing to kill each other with the nerf toys last week."

"Being back to normal means no ball pit this week," Tyler added. "I know. I'm crushed, too. Welcome to Fight Club. Rules are posted over there, and if this is your first week sign in and let us know what your level is."

"Like last time, we'll both be around keeping an eye on things, and I'll be over by the beginner mats for the first bit," Ghanima stated. "Now, you and you. You two. And you two too." She turned to Tyler, smiling brightly. "Care to pick the last victims?"

"You know the way to my heart, Ghanima," Tyler joshed, and looked over the group for a long moment. "You, hiding in the back, and you by the padding. And both of you. And that makes five sets. Go forth and punch."

[Preplayed with

atreideslioness. Up early for SP~~, wait a sec for OCD~~.]

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Now that wasn't a move that would go appreciated.

Arthur's other arm, still not in its best form, perhaps, but still definitely an arm and thusly muscled, slammed down on what he knew would have to be the weak part of Minsc's.

At least, it would be the weak part on any human being's. He was banking on Minsc being one.

And, yup, that definitely hit the mark. Gritting his teeth a little, Minsc could have let go from the shock of pain, but went the other way, clenching his hand tighter and, as his arm went down with the blow, it was intending on pulling Arthur (or at least his shirt, which had Arthur in it) down, to give him a nice facefull of mat.

Minsc didn't have much a hand in refined fighting. Not when all the good fights required a bit of rough around the edges.

Well, at least his initial 'oh crap' had been warranted.

Second rule of dealing with a lot of linebackers in your line of work: try to stay out of their bloody range. His face made a good beeline for the mat, but the force of experience allowed him to control it somewhat.

He, hence, failed to flail.

Instead, he made a marked attempt to smack Minsc in the stomach on his way down. Not quite by the rules of gentlemanly combat, but...

Minsc hardly claimed to be a gentleman. In fact, he would (usually) roundly deny it wholeheartedly.

Hit on the stomach! Very good; get what you could! Minsc even grunted from it, a little, before going to kick Arthur when he hit the mats.

Oh, lovely. Arthur used some of the aforementioned speed to scatter out of the way after a kick or two.

His ribs were going to hurt come the morning. Could've gone for Minsc's ankle, but the force of those kicks was great, and previous experience had now proven that going for ligaments probably wasn't going to do that much damage.

The man was like a wall. Go for the squishy bits, his mind said, rather pragmatically, as he scrambled to his feet.

What squishy bits?

Minsc did back off a little to let Sir Arthur get to his feet and try another strategy. This was a spar, after all, and kicking a man when he was down was only fun when that man was either evil or a gnoll, and thus not a man at all. He rubbed his arm a bit gingerly, though, where the pressure points had been hit.

If Minsc had kept on kicking him, he would've sunk rather low in Arthur's esteem. Not because of the pain caused, but because it was a bloody dishonourable thing to do.

He rolled the muscles in his shoulder once, mostly as a distraction to keep from wincing. Use that speed: dart in, dart out. ~~Punch him in the hamster, Arthur.~~

That led him to dart in for a punch at Minsc's side. Dart out would be the next, unless Minsc was a lot faster than he thought.

Someone trying to kill you rarely cared about honour, though.

Minsc was quicker than people gave him credit for, but he was trying to go a little easy and he sometimes wasn't that quick at all, so when he curled into the punch to the side, he went to swing back into the empty space that Arthur had inhabited.

Realizing he was gone, Minsc at least tried to dart his other arm forward, a firm heel of his hand into Arthur's retreating back.

Outside of honourable combat, maybe. Arthur was a honourable sort of man.

At least that had worked. He twisted out of the way, feeling the force of one hand barely scraping the line of his back, then tried to angle a kick to Minsc's stomach while his hands were otherwise occupied.

With God as his witness, he'd at least give the guy some bruises before he tapped out.

Nice thing about being kicked in the stomach: the body naturally caved in around it and gave Minsc the hope to grab Arthur's leg before he pulled it back, to give it a good yank and get the boy off his feet.

Wait, no. Two good things about being kicked in the stomach. That, and it kind of hurt, right in the gut! A good spot!

Minsc was clearly unhinged.

He wasn't going to fall again. He snagged Minsc's neck in order to catch himself - might as well make use of the man's bear-like stature - pulling him down while he was at it.

There may have been some attempted punching of the face in the mix as well. He couldn't be certain. Minsc's head was still up fairly high, even if he was bent over.

Yup. Those were definitely punches to the face. Minsc laughed, deep and pleased, as he felt each drive of knuckle into his jaw and tried to not let them distract him from fighting against the combination of Sir Arthur's weight and his helpful friend gravity by trying to straighten his back with squared shoulder.

"Good, Si--" Punch. "-rthur! Ver--" Punch. "-ood!"

He flinched with each of the punches, too, but each one was like a ticking countdown to the moment where he'd smash his own fist into Arthur's side.

Arthur should probably dart out while he had the advantage. Now that Minsc was otherwise distracted, he could yank his leg free...

He was expecting something. The whole fist to his side thing, not quite it. Ow. He let go of Minsc's neck in a hurry, stumbling back and trying- trying- not to grasp his side.

His fingers itched too much not to press to the area for an instant.

Minsc thought, for a brief second, of playing the teacher and offering to call it a draw.

But he remembered that those lines, by the rules, were gone.

It was an interesting second of conundrum for a chaotic ranger in reform.

But a brief second, and the fighter won over everything. As Arthur staggered back, he quickly moved forward to close in on the distance, reaching for the boy's shoulders to hold him in place (or, rather, perhaps pull him into it a bit) and send a knee into his stomach.

Now, Minsc. That was Arthur's move.

Perhaps he was a bit less honourable while trying out knights. They did have to be able to take a few blows, after all.

He wasn't about to stand idly by while the big lug came barreling at him. His movements were more sluggish with the pain, but he still managed to wrench one shoulder out of the way, catching only the edges of Minsc's knee. Ow times double.

He tried to slam his foot up into Minsc's other bloody knee in punishment.

With a grunt and a wince, Minsc responded beautifully to the pain of a foot in his knee by just swinging a punch for Arthur's jaw, with a growling cry of something that sounded mostly like a compliment to Arhtur's fighting back.

His head snapped back. Something wet crawled down from his nose and onto his lip. "...First blood," he muttered.

Well, snarled.

Okay, Minsc wasn't the only one who sort of got into this kind of thing.

Minsc sagged a little, though mostly from disappointment that it might be over already, but he sighed and thought back fondly on the really good punches that Sir Arthur had managed, pulling back and straightening his shoulder.s He could feel something along his stomach pulling wonderfully when he did that, and ran a hand across his jaw to remind the tingling to stick around a little longer.

"Little blood," he huffed, "never hurt anyone."

"We could continue on to the death," Arthur shot back, and there was still clear fire in his eyes even if the end of the spar meant he'd reign it in as best he could, "but our hosts might--" Groan. "--disagree. You fought well, Sir Minsc."

Minsc nodded, extra solemnity thrown into it to help pull down the swimming in his head, the swarming of fight, fight, fight buzzing between his ears. He curled his fists so tightly they made a few cracks, and a pop

"As did you, Sir Arthur. I'm impressed."

"I try my best," Arthur replied.

He was making a valiant attempt to reign in the deadpan, too. Then he reached to offer Minsc his hand.

While the other one clung somewhat to his side. Hush.

Minsc grinned a little, but he uncurled his finger enough to take Arthur's hand.

He hoped the prince wouldn't mind the perhaps excessive force of the slap of palms and the rather tight grip.

It was actually intended to be affectionate.

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Fight Club, Atlas Gym, Sunday Evening

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur

Re: Advanced Fight: Sir Minsc and Prince Arthur